Smoke

Smoke

Of all the choices the night sky had at its disposal to accompany the twilight breeze, it had gone with rain. Rain that was so  goddamn austere that every glistening bead struck as a smack across my beaten face as it gazed wistfully down the street. I felt I oughtta slap the rain right back, but I wasn’t off my rocker, not yet at least. Nevertheless, having blown off ten grand, nine thousand six hundred to be exact, in one night had to be a record, and not one to be proud of either. I repeated the clenching and unclenching motion of my hand on my right pants pocket, as if the loose bills and change that lay there would suddenly multiply. Ten dollars, ten damn dollars is all I got. I still couldn’t understand how the hell it had gotten away from me. It was going great ya know- I had actually been on one of those streaks. You either stop while you're a winner or go on long enough to see yourself lose ten freaking grand. I had let it get away from me, or rather, to me. To my head to be precise. Funny thing is, I couldn’t even recall when I’d been winning- the only thing my mind kept on replay was the moment when the dealer grabbed the chips and dragged them to her pile, signaling the end of my game. What was her name again? I recalled being mad as all hell then, but I remembered seeing her name tag. That stupid thing. Julie, yeah, her name was Julie. I let loose a couple more curses at her and at the idiots that had been at the table. To hell with Julie, and to hell with poker, it’s a dumb man’s game anyway. I glanced up at the street light as it changed beneath the inky black sheets of rain, slowly turning from red to green. My eyes quickly scanned the periphery and I stepped out onto the road. Grasping the collar of my coat tighter around my neck to keep out the cold, I made my way across the crossing. Stepping onto the sidewalk, I noticed that the green light was weaker than the other colors- almost inexistent- as if it had blown a fuse inside. That makes two of us.

Why do they all look the same? Every single casino that I’d stood in front of before had given me the same look and feel, and this one didn’t disappoint. There were always the golden shades set upon the windows to exaggerate the opulence, a giant, neon-pumped sign hung loosely on the top, and a sorry looking bellboy to open the gates of hell themselves. And always- never had I missed it- there was always a man walking out of those gates, head hung low. The occasional one would have a spring in his step and a wad of bills bulging in his pockets, but those were so damn rare. The miserable chaps were never without their share of sunken eyes and wild hair. Their lips would always be wrinkled from the licking and their mugs shiny from perspiring. I did feel a twinge of pity as once again the doors swung open and another one trudged out into the merciless downpour, but it quickly dissipated. I’d spent enough time feeling sorry for myself to spare any sympathy for strangers. It was enough, however, to make me wonder why in all the world it was casinos that drew the most deadbeats. Just ask yourself, idiot. After all, I found myself courting a new casino every Saturday night. Few had ended up being worth the effort, but they were the bulb and I was the helpless moth I guess. If I had half a mind I would turn around right now, but ten dollars was a disgrace to go back home with. What would the wife say after she finds out that not only did I swipe a chunk of the savings from the bank, but ended up loosing the entire thing? I looked up to see the bellboy holding the door a fraction of an inch open, unsure whether I was there to go in or just wallow in my thoughts. Frankly kid, I’m not so sure myself. I sidestepped to one of the windows that had its curtains drawn close, so that I could make myself as presentable as the moment permitted before walking in. The goal was to make me look better than I felt inside at the moment. It was bit hard to see, what with the rain as the background, but it was enough. I popped off my hat and let it shed its added weight of water as I brushed my hair in different directions, experimenting. The sandy blonde waves were stubborn, but once the mop upon my head had dried enough to cooperate, I parted the top in sophisticated waves that arched from the middle of my head to the right back end and pressed hard against the sides until they stuck against my scalp. I opened and rebent my collar to straighten it out and ran a quick hand across the body of my shirt to smooth it down. After wiping spots of lint and unrecognizable specks off my trousers, I brought my arms up to put on the hat and adjust it according to the improvised hairstyle. Lastly, bringing together my first and pinkie finger, I licked them a little and then spread them across my eyebrows as a finishing touch. Of all the irony in the damn world: Looking like a million bucks but broke as all hell. 

“Will you be going in, Sir?” mumbled the bellboy. 

“Yeah, yeah just give me a minute will ya?”

“Of c-course Sir”

And with that he obliged himself to shut up enough for me to take one last look around and get my thoughts in order. I could tell by the timid aura he gave off that he was probably new, so I cut him some slack. Gazing back up at the casino, I ran my eyes along the impressive brick building. You didn’t need to be a guy like me to know this one had been standing since before I could get on my own two feet. The edges of many of the bricks were clipped and decaying, so as to add to the old-timey feel. The only reason I’d come here was because, well, it was one of the few I hadn’t been to before and it was just a twenty minute walk from the last casino. It might seem like little time, but it had been enough for me to spoil my mood further. Ten dollars, I still can’t believe it. I shot a quick look behind me and glimpsed silhouettes of people bustling about trying to get out of the rain. They’re probably carrying more than ten dollars, those rich scamps. Since I stood under one of the awnings that sprawled alongside the casino’s front entrance, a thin film of water separated me from the crowd, all those people that had found something better to indulge in this godforsaken Saturday night. I wondered if there was something metaphorical about all this, but then shook it off my mind. Now ain’t the time to have an introspective breakdown. I cast an eye upwards once again before I took a step towards the door. The huge cursive letters lining the face of the building seemed to be screaming the establishment’s name: ‘Night and Day’. Peculiar choice. Finally, with a wave towards the bellboy, I walked towards the entrance. As he pulled the sizable door open, gesturing inside with a welcoming gait, he quite merrily exclaimed, “Best of luck, Sir.” I nodded silently and started inside. Just before I stepped onto the welcome mat, which I’m sure was at one point in its life clean, I saw a flyer stuck to the other door. “Whether you’re loaded or got just ten bucks, anything can happen here!” it read. Touché.

The first thing you tend to notice in your average gambling den is the smoke. Sure enough, tufts of the hazy gas trembled above the tables wedged between the slots in the main ground of the room. The place was stereotypical in its lazy ambience, in that I almost wanted to lay back and swim in the lax lifestyle that pervaded the room. More smoke floated up and suffused through the room as the men focusing intently on their hands puffed away on filthy cigars inattentively. The card tables were a sea of suits; every geezer who thought a finely tailored cloth could elevate his low status sat crooked on the stools, elbows resting on the edge of the table. The majority sported bowler hats that seemed glued to their shining scalps, as most were bald or halfway there. The ones who really went all out had gilded canes resting against their sides. A couple go them were anxiously clutching the handles and with their thumbs making the slightest twitches. Alongside every one of them lay a bottle of beer, which they sipped in  short intervals. I inclined my head to the right as a young drunk was escorted out by two guards. Nobody stirred from their game to look- people who came here came with a purpose and they rarely deviated their attention to lesser prospects. Behind the guy being taken out I saw a stage that stood an unremarkable three feet off from the ground and had upon it a lone mike, glinting from the spotlights above. A moment later, a flicker of movement alluded to the entrance of a new musical number: a dark skinned woman wearing a bright silver dress followed by her instrumentalists who were clad in tuxes of the same shade. The light squeaking of the mike being adjusted to her height was accompanied by the clatter of bows and strings as the bassists and violinists took their places. Once assembled, the gal brushed aside dangling curls to reveal equally long earrings. Something ‘bout this place that brings the panache out in people. Her lofty heels sent echoes bounding off as she shuffled around confirming the readiness of her accompaniment and then turned around and flashed an angelic smile at the audience. She didn’t seem the least bit perturbed by the fact that nobody had lifted an eye to the stage. Must be a regular gig for her. As she scanned the room, her eyes rested on mine. They were a startling brown and, in all honesty, a pleasure to look at. She threw a friendly wave my way. I tilted my hat in recognition and drew a smile to my face. She then composed herself and stood still, waiting to begin. The lights on stage dimmed to a smooth hue and puddles of soft, yellow flashes danced around. I gave one last look and then proceeded to examine the rest of the floor. The games were still on full swing with the players suspended over their cards; they hadn’t moved an inch. To the far left I spotted the bar and suddenly my throat seemed drier than usual. I considered the spirits stacked within the hollows of the shelves- a myriad of bottles boasting labels of the finest years, but most likely containing drinks of much less substance. Walking over to the counter I slid onto a seat at the far end and settled down. Overwhelmed, I rested my head in one hand and flicked the other to usher the bartender to my spot. 

After a couple minutes I felt the damp breaths of a large man standing in front of me. I tilted my hat back and glanced up at the bull of a man standing on the other side of the counter.

“Well what can I do for you, hoss?”

“If ya got a spare 10 grand layin’ around anywhere, that might help”

He had one of those resounding chuckles, the ones you expect from the average granddad. Speaking of which, he was pretty old too. His crown was just about as bare as my pocket, and even though he had recently shaved, I gleaned patches of white from the tiny hairs outlining his beard. He spoke with a southern drawl, but instead of it being something to ridicule, he pulled it off in a dignified manner. His accent was that of a wealthy man, despite the fact he stood in front of me cleaning a mug with a tattered rag. As he spoke, his hands never stopped, just like everything else in the casino. 

“Bad night?”

“You tell me. Ten grand. Gone. Over and out. Poof.”

“That bad, eh?”

“Tell me about it, I'll switch places with you without a second thought”

“Well the grass is always greener on the other side ya get me? And cheer up hoss, anything can happen at the tables; By the look of you I’m sure you’re aware o’ that”

“Sure”

“Well are ya gonna sit there and mumble or are ya gonna order somethin?”

“Ha, let me know what this gets me”

I reached one hand into my pocket and after rustling about a bit, pulled out the money. The bartended offered it a glimpse and laughed gruffly.

“Ten dollars and forty cents, man, you got it worse off than I thought. And that’s it right?”

“Yup, every single penny I have tonight is sittin’ in front of you”

He gazed at the money and then at me. There seemed to be something in his eyes, empathy maybe, or understanding. He continued staring until suddenly he banged his hands against the countertop.

“Well damn it if I ain’t too nice for my own good, and all the better for you too. Tell ya what hoss, the drink’s on me. That way you can spend the little you got on testin’ your luck at the tables…or the slots if you’re that kinda guy.”

For the first time in the night I smiled a genuine smile and laughed. I nodded at him and hoped that the gratitude showed on my face.

“Nah, I’m the tables kind, but I haven’t been havin’ the best of luck with poker”

“That’s an understatement: losin’ ten grand ain’t just bad luck, sonny, the devil’s got his eye on you”

He laughed merrily and I joined in. I tapped a rhythm on the wooden top as he shuffled over to the shelves and started taking out some bottles and expertly pouring them into a tall glass filled with ice shards. As I spectated, music reached my ears. Music enticing enough to turn heads, and sure enough I turned mine along with, to my surprise, some of the players. The gal on stage had begun the show and by god she had a voice. It was soulful enough to drown out the fragile whispers of the strings behind, and yet at the same time seemed to balance every sound perfectly. It was a captivating sound, reverberating through the congested air of the casino. As she sang, the woman swayed her hips from side to side, the thin tassels on the edge of her dress flowing elegantly in suit. I listened close as the first words leapt off her tongue:

“Strangers in the night, exchanging glances

Wond'ring in the night, what were the chances

We'd be sharing love before the night was through…”

The onlookers gaped as she wove the classic tune into her own style, resulting in a new magic. A few bobbed their heads to the jazzy dips and legatos. It was pure blues. 

“…Two lonely people, we were strangers in the night

Up to the moment when we said our first hello little did we know

Love was just a glance away, a warm embracing dance away…”

As I watched, the girl looked my way again with the same smile on her face and it was too infectious of a gesture not to reciprocate. But never in our silent conversation did she lose the song but instead wove it through my ears like a tapestry for the ages. Just then the bartender moved back to my side and started listening as well. He had a ghost of a smile on his face.

“Isn’t she somethin?” he asked.

“Of course, never in my whole life heard ‘Strangers in the Night’ sung this way”

“Y’know the song?”

“A man ain’t a man if they don’t know Sinatra”

“I’d wager you a fan?”
“If I’m sure of anything, it’s that the sky is blue, and Frank Sinatra is the damn god of all music”

“I’ll drink to that”

So as the woman quieted down for the instrumental solo, I spun around and clinked my drink with his. We laughed and lifted our mugs to our lips. “Cheers,” he said, muffled by the drinking. I turned my eyes to the card tables once before closing them and emptying my glass bottoms up. My mood lightened- the previous frustration subsiding until my head was empty other than the music. I was ready to get playing. Cheers.

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Hope you guys enjoyed this piece; it was an imposing endeavor since I haven't written a narrative of this sort, or any piece of this size for that matter, in quite a while. Trying to capture the look and feel of a casino was not easy either, but I'm hoping it ended up nicely. Thank you so much for reading and comments would be appreciated!